


that's okay, baby, only words bleed

by gabilliam (vvhymack)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, only in the past tho!, they broke up lol, they didn't break up because they were never together but also like, this is them reuniting!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 16:24:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18076850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvhymack/pseuds/gabilliam
Summary: prompt; 31+34 - "i cant keep kissing strangers and pretending they’re you” + “i might never get another chance to say this""Yuta drank it in, heart pounding as his world narrowed down to just them, just two dumb, selfish kids making the worst decisions that felt amazing at the moment but they both knew they would regret in the morning."





	that's okay, baby, only words bleed

**Author's Note:**

> this was meant to be a drabble but :3 i hate myself! title from photograph by ed sheeran bc writing the conclusion to this fic reminded me of that song for some reason so i checked the lyrics and i was like Oh. Thats Why. also, this is 4 quinn.

Yuta cursed the wind as he swayed under its assault. Strong arms prevented him from toppling over entirely and Yuta wrapped his arms around the arm, clutching onto Jaehyun like a lifeline.

“See, this is why you build mass instead of just lean muscle and stamina,” Jaehyun said, seemingly unaffected by the way Yuta had attached himself to him. “You’re going to fly away with the breeze.”

“Breeze!” Yuta laughed hysterically, pulling Jaehyun closer as they quickly approached their destination. “Does this look like a fucking breeze to you?”

“ _I’m_ fine,” Jaehyun said smugly before being hit in the face by a wet leaf.

“ _I’m fine_ ,” Yuta mimicked, holding on to Jaehyun’s arm when he tried to shake Yuta off. “Stop, I’ll die before I get to the bar.”

“Good,” Jaehyun muttered. “Save yourself.”

“Shut up,” Yuta said. “I said I was going to come. He can’t avoid me forever.”

“He should,” Jaehyun insisted indignantly. “He should cower in shame!”

“You say this now,” Yuta shot back. “But when you see him, it’s gonna be all ‘ _Hi, Doyoung-hyung! How was Osaka, hyung? Did you have fun? How was the internship? You look good!’”_

“It’s called being polite,” Jaehyun said. “Besides, it’s not my grudge to hold.”

“And yet,” Yuta rolled his eyes but leaned into Jaehyun’s steady warmth, looking for comfort.

He hadn’t seen Doyoung in over a year, though his internship had only been for 9 months and Yuta had spent 3 of those months in Osaka as well. Yuta knew Doyoung had come back, it had been evident from his Instagram page which he updated religiously. Despite the rejection, Yuta hadn’t blocked Doyoung from every social media platform as he had childishly wanted to do. He had whined, he’d gotten drunk, he’d cried and then he had gotten over it. He was _over_ it.

“I’m over it,” Yuta reminded Jaehyun just as they were about to enter the restaurant Taeyong had picked for their little reunion. “I played a part in it just as much as he did.”

“Sure you are, buddy,” Jaehyun replied, patting Yuta’s head once before entering, dragging Yuta along with him. The hostess could barely get a word in before Yuta and Jaehyun found their rather large crowd in a corner booth. They both bowed politely to the hostess before making their way to the booth. On their way, Jaehyun continued. “If you want to leave, you know the signal.”

“Our safe word,” Yuta nodded seriously.

“Stop calling it that please,” Jaehyun groaned.

It was a cue Yuta, Jaehyun and Jungwoo had made quite a while ago, during their university years. Whenever they wanted out of a conversation or situation, they’d talk about the football match they couldn’t miss. Since none of their friends beside them gave a single fuck or wanted to give a single fuck about sports, it was an easy way out.

“Jaehyun-ah!” Yuta focused on their booth that was now right in front of him. Taeyong was up and waving his arm, already a pretty shade of pink. Yuta eyed the shot glasses in front of him and sighed. “Over here!”

“I’m right here, Taeyong-hyung, I can see you,” Jaehyun said with a laugh, finally successfully unlatching Yuta from himself. “Budge in, hyung.”

The booth was quite full. Jaehyun managed to squeeze in beside Johnny and Johnny’s steady hand on Jaehyun’s waist would prevent him from falling off the seat. Beside the duo was Taeil who was currently making sure Taeyong didn’t get too ambitious with putting the meat on the barbeque grill and kept the scissors firmly away from the lightweight. Taeyong himself was gleefully watching the meat cook, tongue poking out. The remaining two, Jungwoo and Doyoung, were looking at Yuta in polite expectancy as Yuta realized he was the only one left standing and the only place to sit was beside Doyoung.

Yuta took the seat, sitting his ass as close to the edge as possible, crossing his legs.

“Ten and Kun didn’t come? Did you guys read Sicheng’s message about not being able to come?” Yuta asked, taking his chopsticks into his hand. At least Jaehyun was right in front of him, even if the food was a little bit of a stretch away.

“Ten’s not in the country, remember?” Johnny said. “And Kun’s busy, apparently.”

“He’s always busy,” Taeyong sighed dramatically. “I miss him.”

“Are we just going to let him keep drinking?” Doyoung asked, voice concerned.

“Let the man drink,” Taeil said calmly.

“Yes!” Taeyong agreed enthusiastically.

“Anyway,” Jaehyun said after a moment. “How are you, Doyoung-hyung? I haven’t seen you in so long!”

Yuta caught Jaehyun’s eye and didn’t manage to suppress the smile the words he’d predicted brought. Jaehyun smiled back at him before turning his attention back to Doyoung.

“I’m alright,” Doyoung said. Doyoung had a higher pitched voice and he often spoke in a pout or as though he was whining. Yuta shouldn’t miss his voice. Yuta did. “I’ve been really busy trying to settle back into Seoul.”

“How was Osaka?” Yuta asked, aiming for normalcy and hitting close enough.

“It was good,” Doyoung replied, steamrolling through the awkward air that had appeared between them. “I was so busy, I actually don’t remember most it.”

“Should’ve taken up my offer to show you around,” Yuta said. The table seemed to hold their breath, but Yuta wasn’t worried. This was what Doyoung and he _did_. It would be odder if they didn’t bicker. Doyoung, for his part, took his cue well.

“I barely had time to breathe, Yuta,” Doyoung replied easily. “You expect me to put up with you?”

“Put up with me!” Yuta said, clutching his heart. “I’m wounded!”

“I’m sure,” Doyoung said, shaking his head. “How was Osaka for you?”

“Wonderful,” Yuta said wistfully. It was only about 40% of a lie. Despite the heartbreak he had been experiencing, Osaka was still _home,_ and he hadn’t been back in a couple of years at that point. “I slept a lot.”

“So, the opposite of Doyoung-hyung?” Jungwoo teased and Yuta stuck his tongue out at him.

The conversation flowed easier with that out of the way as Yuta had expected. Yuta listened to Doyoung talk about his job and his new place in Seoul and how he’d _just_ finished moving with barely a twinge of hurt. It was easy to delude himself that he was fine, that this was like so many other outings they had before Doyoung left. When he was surrounded by people, Yuta found it easier to slip into the persona they wanted to see. He picked at the food on the table, rationalizing to himself that he hadn’t lost his appetite, the barbecue was simply too far away, and his arm was beginning to hurt.

“I’m going to have an apartment warming gathering soon,” Doyoung was saying. “Let me know when you all are free.”

“Is your apartment cold and empty without us?” Jaehyun asked in amusement. “Saturday works for me.”

“I’ll check my schedule,” Johnny said. “Yuta, why aren’t you eating?”

“Food far,” Yuta complained, reaching out towards the grill with his chopsticks and struggling to grab the piece of meat. He suddenly felt a hand holding his arm and he looked to his side to see Doyoung frowning at him, his hand keeping Yuta’s arm from touching the grill.

“Be careful, hyung,” Doyoung said, making Yuta pull his hand back. Before Yuta could say anything, Doyoung picked up some pieces with his own chopstick and placed them on a small plate and placed it in front of Yuta. “There, eat.”

“Thanks,” Yuta said, mostly through instinctual manners and because he didn’t know what else to say.

“Next time, we should get a bigger booth,” Taeil said.

“This was the only one available and _someone_ rushed me to get it,” Taeyong said, glaring at Johnny pointedly.

“That’s because _someone_ forgot to reserve it until the last minute and if I hadn’t rushed them, we’d have no table,” Johnny bit back mildly.

“The party that was taking up the larger table left 20 minutes after we sat down!” Taeyong pouted.

“Twenty whole minutes,” Johnny shuddered. “We were all too hungry for that.”

It wasn’t until Yuta was walking up to his apartment alone that he realized the way his arm burned. Not from touching the grill but in the shape of Doyoung’s hand. As he lay down and put a hand over the phantom feeling, Yuta thought that maybe he wasn’t as over it as he’d lead himself to believe.

-

_The night they were celebrating freedom from their last finals was cool, a playful breeze keeping all the drunk college students from overheating. Yuta had his arm around Doyoung’s waist as they shakily made their way to the convenience store. Doyoung and Yuta snuck away together often enough that no one really questioned their 2 a.m. run to the grocery store as the house party started dying down just a little._

_“Sit here,” Doyoung said, depositing Yuta onto the curb carefully. “I’ll be right back.”_

_Despite the late hour, there were still students milling about, though they all seemed to be heading in the general direction of the dorms and the bus stop. The crowd had gotten scarcer, with barely anyone there, by the time Doyoung came back and sat next to Yuta with a plastic bag._

_“Ice cream,” Doyoung announced, handing the Yuta the package before taking one out for himself. “I got some water as well if you want.”_

_“Thanks,” Yuta mumbled. “I really wanted ice cream.”_

_“I know,” Doyoung said with a laugh. “You mentioned. Several times.”_

_“Thank you for getting me ice cream,” Yuta said gratefully, wide eyes looking at Doyoung._

_“You’re welcome,” Doyoung said, scooting in closer until their thighs were touching. “What’re you going to do without me?”_

_“Crash and burn,” Yuta said seriously. “That’s why we can’t be parted, Doyoung.”_

_“Bold words from someone who’s graduating,” Doyoung said, his smile a little sad. Yuta understood. Doyoung and Yuta were in the same academic year and they’d both graduated to different fields. It was quite plausible that they’d have to go their own ways soon, that their lives were only meant to intertwine for these 4 years before their paths inevitably diverged and they become old college friends who occasionally kept in touch and met during class reunions and messaged each other on their birthdays because Facebook reminded them._

_It was a terrible fate, in Yuta’s opinion. Yuta placed his head on Doyoung’s shoulder, looking out into the street. It was brightly lit, with the occasional group of giggle drunks passing by but with Doyoung pressed against his side, Yuta felt like they were the only ones there in the dark night._

_“Hey,” Doyoung started, his voice quiet and serious enough that Yuta turned his full attention to the man beside him. Doyoung seemed hesitant, as though something was waiting to spill from his mouth, and he had to bite his lips to keep it in. Yuta tilted his head, indicating that he was listening. “I’m going to say something really selfish.”_

_“Okay,” Yuta replied in a neutral tone. The drunken buzz seemed to clear in his mind as he watched Doyoung._

_“You know we can’t be together, right?” Doyoung said and Yuta swallowed. He wanted to look away, to laugh it off and pretend he didn’t know what Doyoung was talking about. They’d never spoken about this thing between them because it would hurt more if it was acknowledged. “I’m going to Osaka and you’re getting that job.”_

_“I’m going to Osaka too,” Yuta said._

_“You know what I mean,” Doyoung replied impatiently but Yuta knew his impatience was simply a cover for more vulnerable emotions. “I’m going to be too busy in Osaka to do anything, let alone date anyone.”_

_“Okay,” Yuta trailed off. “I thought we had a mutual unspoken agreement to not talk about us dating?”_

_“We did,” Doyoung said, gnawing at his lip and Yuta feared he might pierce flesh soon at the rate he was going. “But if I don’t say this now, I might never get another chance to say this.”_

_“What if I don’t want to hear it?” Yuta whispered. It wasn’t like him to run away from the truth but a part of him simply wanted to preserve himself. He knew that they were hurtling towards something devastating and he was pulling out all the stops to prevent a crash landing._

_“That’s why I said I was being selfish,” Doyoung said. He looked like he’d made up his mind and years of arguing with Doyoung for the sake for argument taught Yuta that once Doyoung made up his mind to say something, not much could deter him. You could argue with what he laid out but he would lay it out whether you liked it or not. It wasn’t often since Doyoung could be pretty compromising and he had more tact that Yuta did, knew when it was better to shut up whereas Yuta had an unfortunate tendency to barrel ahead without thought. Yuta nodded and Doyoung inhaled deeply._

_“I like you,” Doyoung said and the emotion in his voice made Yuta’s heart skip a beat. “I really, really like you. I know it’s really dumb to say it now. I realize how shitty I’m being right now, how selfish but I just- I just wanted tonight.”_

_“Tonight?” Yuta asked._

_“I know we’re going to go our separate ways soon. Once the sun rises, we can go back to how we were. I’ll go to Osaka, you can start your job here. We won’t be able to talk much, or at all, anymore with how busy we’ll both be.”_

_“That’s cynical of you,” Yuta said softly, a sad smile settling on the curve of his lips._

_“I’m being realistic. It hurts less that way,” Doyoung said, looking away, his bottom lip back between his teeth, red from the assault. “But tonight, we’re still dumb college kids so. I really like you.”_

_“I really like you too,” Yuta replied with a grin, laughing when Doyoung’s eyes snapped to his. “Are you surprised? I know I’m quite good at hiding my emotions.”_

_“You’re obvious, Yuta,” Doyoung said with a snort. “You’re one of the most emotional people I’ve ever met.”_

_“Ah, well,” Yuta shrugged. “What can I say? You’re so loveable, despite being insufferable.”_

_Doyoung grinned at him, wide and gummy and Yuta smiled back._

_“I’m going to ask something else that’s really selfish,” Doyoung said. “You don’t have to do it, though. It’s just a request.”_

_“Do tell,”_

_“Kiss me,” Doyoung said and Yuta froze. “I know it’s awful of me to ask knowing that tomorrow, this will mean nothing but- please. If you can. If you want.”_

_“It’s not about wanting,” Yuta said. “It’s a matter of should.”_

_“We’ve already done too much that we shouldn’t,” Doyoung said with a bitter smile. It looked odd on him, out of place against his soft features. “It’s alright, though. I just thought I’d ask since we’re being honest. If it’s going to hurt, I might as well get something out of it.”_

_“And what about me?” Yuta asked, even as he moved closer, placing a hand on Doyoung’s jaw, rubbing a thumb over the line. “How will I handle all this pain?”_

_“I’m sorry,” Doyoung whispered. The shininess in his eyes made Yuta’s own eyes sting and he cursed himself and his sensitive nature. “I’m so sorry.”_

_“Shut up,” Yuta said and he pressed his lips against Doyoung’s._

_The kiss was gentle, but Yuta almost collapsed against Doyoung at the feeling behind it. Doyoung gasped under him, lips probably still sensitive from the way he’d been going to town on him earlier in his anxiety. It was easy to fall into because it was a long time coming and Doyoung’s soft lips cushioned the crash landing they were plunging towards as their mouths moved together._

_When Yuta deepened the kiss, he tasted salt and he wasn’t sure if it was his own tears or Doyoung’s. He drank it in, heart pounding as his world narrowed down to just them, just two dumb, selfish kids making the worst decisions that felt amazing at the moment but they both knew they would regret in the morning._

-

Yuta stood in front of the door, observing it. There was a decal on the button to ring the bell and a soft mat in front of the door. He raised his hand to ring the bell before putting it down without pressing it. What if no one else had come yet? He couldn’t hear any voices and he didn’t particularly want to be stuck alone with Doyoung. They had met a couple of times again after the dinner, but it was always in the company of friends.

“What exactly are you doing, hyung?” A deep voice said, and Yuta startled, clutching the bag he held to his chest as he turned around. Sicheng stood at the top stair, looking at Yuta in barely concealed amusement.

“How long have you been standing there?” Yuta asked, nay, demanded!

“Long enough to see you be a pussy,” Sicheng said, walking up to a very offended Yuta.

“Hey! We talked about this,” Yuta said sternly. “We don’t use pussy as an insult in this household! Women are not weak!”

“Yeah but,” Sicheng said, effortlessly pressing the button that Yuta had to summon Herculean strength to even raise his hand for. “This fits into Taeyong’s drunken Yuta kitty agenda so I figured it was okay.”

“I am not a cat,” Yuta insisted just as the door swung open. Doyoung stood there, raising an eyebrow at Yuta’s words. “I’m a human!”

“Sure,” Sicheng said disbelievingly. “Hey, Doyoung-hyung. Long time, no see.”

“Hey, Sicheng,” Doyoung said, voice confused. “Yuta-hyung. Come in.”

“Are we early?” Sicheng asked, walking inside. Yuta followed him closely, gripping the back of Sicheng’s jacket in his hand when he moved too far away.

“No, Taeyong-hyung and Johnny are here,” Doyoung said, pointing inwards.

“Taeyong,” Yuta yelled out, letting go of Sicheng and wiggling out of his shoes in record time before marching into the house to see Taeyong and Johnny sitting on the couch. “Keep me _out_ of your furry bullshit.”

“What did I do?” Taeyong asked, bewildered before grinning. “Nyan~”

“Get out,” Yuta said. “This is a monster-fuckers _only_ event. Out!”

“I don’t think you have any authority to kick me out of Doyoung’s house,” Taeyong replied with a shit eating grin. “Besides, if I leave, who’s going to cook?”

“Kun-ge’s on his way,” Sicheng said, falling into an armchair.

“I can cook, you know,” Doyoung said, entering the living room. The room itself wasn’t big but Doyoung had made good use of the space, keeping it sparsely furnished with modern furniture so that it didn’t look cluttered. The only things that were there in excess were chairs and couches along with beanie bags; places to sit.

“Since when?” Yuta asked in disbelief. “Ramen doesn’t count.”

“Since now,” Doyoung said primly, coming to sit in front of Yuta. “I’ve been trying!”

“Proud of you!” Taeyong said, clapping and elbowing Johnny until he joined the applause.

Spending time with Doyoung when they were surrounded by their friends was easy. The months apart were a mere unimportant fact and they put it behind them to ensure the peace. But Yuta knew it was always at the tip of their tongues and that it lingered in the back of their minds from the way Doyoung seemed to panic at the prospect of being alone with Yuta. It was why they only ever met when there were other people around. It also meant that they met a _lot_ since they had a ridiculous number of friends in common.

“ _God_ ,” Yuta thought as he stared at the people gathered in front the of the theatre. “ _I need more friends_.”

The artificial lights of the theatre bounced off Doyoung, making him look oddly beautiful against the backdrop of a busy, superficial city. He was deep in conversation with Kun and barely greeting Yuta when he approached before turning back to Kun and continuing their conversation.

“This is just like the old days,” Ten said, patting Yuta in the back, smiling wide.

“That’s sad,” Yuta said. “We shouldn’t be exactly like we were in university.”

“It’s barely been two years, Yuta-hyung,” Kun added. “Give it a little time.”

“I think we’ve changed since university,” Doyoung said almost absently, eyes wandering to the posters of the movies showing. “We’ve grown.”

“I don’t think so,” Yuta snorted. He barely felt like an adult, his grasp on a stable life tenuous at best. He still had cup ramen for dinner far too many nights.

“We are forever babies,” Ten announced, hooking his arm with Yuta’s. “Baby line!”

Doyoung looked at Kun, who shrugged.

“We’re going to watch a cartoon in the cinema, Doyoung,” Kun said with a smile. “I think Ten has a point.”

“Adults can watch cartoons,” Doyoung grumbled but he bought them snacks, so Yuta figured he wasn’t actually mad.

The seating arrangement was such: Yuta, with Ten still attached to him via arm linkage, Doyoung and then Kun. It worked until the movie started and Ten and Kun started _talking_. It was a habit they had where they’d lean over and whisper their commentary and their thoughts and epiphanies on the plot to each other, regardless of what (or who) was between them.

“Do you want to switch seats?” Doyoung asked abruptly when Ten gasped dramatically half an hour into the movie and turned to Kun excitedly. Ten had the decency to looked sheepish for a moment before nodding.

“Fucking hell,” Doyoung muttered once he settled beside Yuta. Yuta grimaced in sympathy and offered Doyoung his box of popcorn as consolation.

The rest of the movie went smoothly, Ten and Kun’s whispering an incoherent buzz that was easily drowned out by the surround sound system.

-

_“I told you this was a bad idea,” Doyoung whispered harshly into Yuta’s ear. Yuta patted him on the leg, rubbing his thigh comfortingly when he continued to complain under his breath. “I told you Ten gets irrationally emotional and passionate about Wicked, did we have to come with him?”_

_“He got us the tickets, Doyoung, it’s called being polite,” Yuta whispered back. “Which is what you would normally be telling me.”_

_“Ten doesn’t deserve my courtesy if he doesn’t have the basic manners to shut up during a performance,” Doyoung bit back but he swallowed any other retort as the action on stage captured his attention once again._

_Ten gasped loudly, physically startling Doyoung and Yuta rolled his eyes. Yuta stretched an arm over Doyoung’s shoulder and whacked Ten as quietly as he could. When Ten’s indignant eyes fell on him, he gestured at him to shut the fuck up. Though Ten rolled his eyes, it seemed to work, all his thoughts instead being aggressively tapped into his phone._

_Instead of retracting his arm, Yuta let it stay over Doyoung’s shoulder. Yuta ignored the judgmental side-eye Ten threw at them since Doyoung didn’t seem to mind._

-

Yuta snapped back to himself when the lights in the theatre flickered open, startling him out of his reverie. On screen, the credits rolled and when Yuta looked around, he saw most of the theatre was empty, with the remaining few also meandering out. Ten and Kun were also missing and the only other person besides himself was Doyoung, who sat calmly beside him, one leg over the other as he played on his phone. Perhaps feeling Yuta’s eyes on him, Doyoung looked up.

“Are there after credit scenes in this?” Doyoung asked. “You seemed pretty engrossed.”

“No,” Yuta said quietly. “There aren’t. Where did Ten and Kun go?”

“Kun left the stove on,” Doyoung said with a shrug. When met with Yuta’s sceptical look, Doyoung nodded. “Yeah, I know, they probably just wanted to fuck but I decided to take them at face value since I don’t want to think about them getting horny watching animation.”

“I doubt that it was the animation that did it since they’re constantly horny but fair call,” Yuta said with a laugh, getting up. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Let’s leave.”

The walk back outside was silent for the most part, except for the occasional ‘Be careful’ as Doyoung moved Yuta away from being stampeded by a crowd. It wasn’t until they were outside that Yuta realized this was the first time in over a year that they were alone together. It wasn’t as bad as Yuta had feared, his mind easing into familiarity when it wasn’t aware of the implication.

“I’m gonna catch a bus,” Doyoung said, pointing at the general direction of a bus stand. “Are you going to head home?”

“I’ll probably grab something to eat first,” Yuta said, already thinking about what he was going to have. He ate out so much, he didn’t particularly crave anything right then. “God, I’m tired of eating out.” He continued absently, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m going to cook some dinner,” Doyoung said, voice too loud like he was forcing the words out. “Do you want to come over?”

Yuta blinked at Doyoung.

“What?” Yuta asked finally.

“What?” Doyoung shot back, already frowning. “You said you were tired of eating out!”

“So?” Yuta said. “That doesn’t mean you _cook me dinner_.”

“I’m not cooking _you_ dinner, I’m making _myself_ dinner and I was kind enough to invite you to join in,” Doyoung said, crossing his arms. “If you don’t want to come, then don’t!”

Doyoung stalked off towards the direction of the bus station, leaving Yuta open-mouthed and frozen, not realizing the dilemma that was going through Yuta. Doyoung and Yuta just didn’t _do_ this anymore and while it was alright to be alone together in a crowded public place, being alone together at home was something else entirely, something that made Yuta feel feverish and made his palms sweaty and gross. Doyoung was almost lost to the crowd by the time Yuta came to his senses and he chased after him, catching up breathlessly just as Doyoung stopped at the bus stop.

“God, why do you walk so fast?” Yuta said, gasping for breath.

“I have places to be,” Doyoung replied in a dignified tone before biting back a smile. “You just have short legs.”

“Shut up,” Yuta said, stretching out.

“Why is a little cardio working you up?” Doyoung asked. “Aren’t you a soccer coach at that high school?”

“See, the thing is,” Yuta replied. “The coach doesn’t actually do much running around. I just make everyone else do things.”

“Does this mean you’re coming over for dinner?” Doyoung asked, craning his neck as a bus came rolling down the street. “This is my bus so make up your mind quickly.”

“Yes,” Yuta said, hoping he wouldn’t regret it.

-

_Doyoung sagged breathlessly against Yuta, clinging on to Yuta as though his legs were jelly. Yuta put a steady arm around Doyoung’s waist, making sure Doyoung didn’t collapse._

_“Yah,” Yuta said, frowning. “Who told you to run this much?”_

_“Maybe if you heard me,” Doyoung’s voice was scratchy as he tried to inhale as much oxygen as he could. “Why do you run so fast?”_

_“Exercise,” Yuta said easily. “I’m surprised you’re even up this early.”_

_“Apparently, 9 a.m. is the only time my partner for one of my classes is free,” Doyoung said. “And you dropped your fucking phone, dumbass.”_

_Yuta almost dropped the man in his haste to take the phone that was offered to him. He checked the phone for dents and only found a crack on the screen protector._

_“How did you not notice?” Doyoung asked, his voice less breathy._

_“The curse of Bluetooth earbuds,” Yuta groaned._

_“Bluetooth-” Doyoung scoffed, standing up on his own. “Buy me breakfast!”_

_“I thought you had a meeting?” Yuta asked._

_“They ditched me because I was late,” Doyoung said, pouting. “They are, and I quote, **super fucking busy, Doyoung**. You made me miss my meeting, now feed me.”_

_“Okay, okay,” Yuta said, rolling his eyes. “What do you want?”_

-

Yuta found it was almost easy to be with Doyoung, along or otherwise, if he simply didn’t mention that one night or the thing that lingered between them before then or the coldness that came after. Yuta learned that if he could navigate through the landmines effortlessly, he could make Doyoung laugh like he used to, make him turn red and irritated yet look at Yuta fondly.

It was _almost_ easy if it weren’t for the fact that Yuta was very much aware and he _did_ remember everything. It hurt to know that it was easier for Doyoung if they forgot those moments and ignored the meaning behind them. It hurt to know Doyoung had moved on and wanted nothing to do with that part of their past anymore.

Yuta let Doyoung complain about the dates he went on because they were amusing enough that the twinge of hurt at the thought of Doyoung actively trying to find a partner that wasn’t Yuta didn’t matter as much. Yuta accepted that those twinges of hurt were inevitable and constant, that keeping Doyoung in his life meant that was the price he would have pay.

As he watched Doyoung get ridiculously invested in a soccer game Yuta had put on, Yuta decided that the price was worth it.

“You’re a dumbass,” Jaehyun informed Yuta kindly as he lifted weights.

“I’m aware but please elaborate,” Yuta said. It was a weekend and while the others were out at a club, Jaehyun, Yuta and Taeil had decided to hit the gym that Jaehyun had charmed the keys to so they could work out in peace after hours.

“Taeil-hyung, elaborate,” Jaehyun said to Taeil, who was lying languidly on the treadmill, scrolling through his phone.

“Communication is important,” Taeil said in a monotone voice. “If you ignore something big or bottle up your feelings, it’s never going to end well.”

“Yes, but isn’t it better to lie sometimes?” Yuta asked. “Like, what if lying makes someone feel better? What if it’s a harmless lie?”

“It’s not harmless if you’re hurting, Yuta,” Jaehyun said.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Yuta said, starting his skipping again. “You lot are being overdramatic.”

Yuta knew that if Jaehyun saw him now, he wouldn’t say _I told you so_ but he’d really, _really_ want to. Yuta had a drunk Doyoung handed to him as soon as he’d arrived.

“He keeps asking for you,” Yangyang said, shrugging. “So I just figured I’d call you so he’d stop crying into perfectly good alcohol and ruining it. K, bye.”

Yangyang left him outside the club and Yuta cursed at the stars, remembering Taeil and Jaehyun’s talk not even two weeks old yet. Yuta ordered a KakaoTaxi with one hand while the other arm ensured Doyoung didn’t slide onto the pavement.

“Yuta,” Doyoung groaned and Yuta hummed in acknowledgement. It wasn’t enough for Doyoung, though, because he tugged at Yuta’s shirt insistently. “ _Yuta_.”

“Yes?” Yuta asked, looking at Doyoung once he’d ordered the taxi that was 7 minutes away. Doyoung was staring at him without shame, meeting his eyes head on with drunken confidence.

“Yuta, why aren’t you blond anymore?” Doyoung asked.

“Why am I not blond?” Yuta repeated, shaking his head. “Because I work at a school. I’m pretty sure it’s against the dress code.”

“I spent all this time remembering you as a blond,” Doyoung said. “The first three months I was in Osaka, I kept an eye out for your blond head. Even after I came back here, blond people reminded me of you.”

“Didn’t you check my Instagram?” Yuta asked lightly, swallowing through the lump that was forming at the insinuation that Doyoung _thought_ about Yuta, kept an eye for him. “You know I went back to brown.”

“I _knew_ ,” Doyoung pouted, shuffling closer to Yuta. “But I didn’t _see_ it, so I just remembered you as a blond. It suited you.” Yuta held his breath as Doyoung reached out to run his fingers gentling through the side of Yuta’s hair. “You look amazing now too. You always do.”

“Ah, what’re you trying to flatter me for,” Yuta said awkwardly, trying to dissipate the atmosphere that was forming between them, trying to keep his trembling heart steady. “I’m already taking you home.”

“I’m just being honest,” Doyoung said quietly. “I kissed someone in there just because they reminded me of your blond hair.”

Yuta clenched his jaw to keep himself from reacting, looking away from Doyoung. He didn’t even want to comprehend what that meant.

“I’m sorry,” Doyoung said after a moment. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Yuta replied.

“I’m sorry,” Doyoung whispered, pressing his forehead against Yuta’s shoulder. Yuta patted him comfortingly. “I’m drunk.”

“That’s a shitty excuse,” Yuta said. “The taxi’s here.”

Doyoung groaned as he pulled away, hunching over once he pried himself off Yuta.

“Okay,” Doyoung said slowly. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair now. I can make it.”

Yuta rolled his eyes, letting Doyoung stagger forward on his own for 40 seconds before he saw the driver getting impatient and he moved forward to support Doyoung again, shoving him into the backseat before joining him and giving the driver the address.

“What’re you doing?” Doyoung complained. “You can go now!”

“Shut up and put your head on my shoulder and close your eyes,” Yuta said seriously enough that Doyoung complied. “You know you get nauseous in moving cars when you’re drunk.”

Yuta didn’t know when Doyoung dozed off, only that his forced steady breathing soon turned natural as he became dead weight against Yuta. Yuta looked at Doyoung and the way his nose and ears were flushed and thought back to their university days when Doyoung would become a clingy drunk and they both turned into a mess of physical affection right before they got truly smashed. The weight of Doyoung against him was heartachingly familiar.

In the months since they’d reunited, Yuta had gotten the password to Doyoung’s door and become familiar with the security enough that the watchman waved at Yuta when he passed him by.

“Is he okay?” The middle-aged man asked in concern softly. “He’s been getting drunk a lot lately.”

“The youth,” Yuta said, tutting and the man laughed quietly and waved them off.

Yuta got Doyoung into bed, pulling off his jacket and socks before tucking him into a blanket and going to find some water and aspirin for the morning. He left both by the bedside when he found them and lingered only for a moment to brush the hair out of Doyoung’s eyes before leaving, locking up behind himself.

Yuta flung himself onto the bed as soon as he got home and pointedly did not think about what had happened because he knew that if he did, he wouldn’t sleep a wink and he had to get to school in the morning. He successfully didn’t think about it until the following evening.

 _Doyoung_  
thanks for taking me home last night  
you didn’t have to  
sorry yy called you  
idek who tf that kid is

 _You_  
it’s jeno’s friend how do u not know him  
kun’s son

 _Doyoung_  
kun calls way too many ppl his son idk  
anyway im sorry about last night

 _You_  
what’re u sorry for   
nothing happened lol

 _Doyoung_  
oh  
i thought  
nvm  
lemme treat you to lunch tomorrow :)

 _You_   
sure uwu

Yuta let his phone fall on his chest. He knew it was routine to ignore the things between them, to pretend that the past was more platonic than it was but Doyoung’s response made Yuta feel wrongfooted and for a moment, Yuta wondered if Doyoung _wanted_ to talk about it.

 _It’s never going to end well_.

Things came to a head earlier than Yuta expected when he opened his door at 10 p.m. on a Thursday night to see Doyoung standing there with his arms crossed.

“Why didn’t you come out with us tonight?” Doyoung demanded, mouth turned downwards.

“We went out last weekend, Doyoung,” Yuta said. “Hyung is an old man now, I need to stay in.”

“Yuta-hyung, you’re not even 4 months older than me,” Doyoung scoffed. His grip on his arms tightened. “Are you avoiding me again?”

“I’ve never avoided you,” Yuta said honestly. “Are you going to come in?”

“You’re right,” Doyoung said, stepping into the house, letting Yuta close the door behind him. “You never sought me out though.”

“Was I supposed to?” Yuta said drily. “You were the one who said that we were going to go our separate ways. Drift apart. Fall out of touch. I just gave you what you wanted.”

Doyoung’s mouth moved to utter a comeback but no sound came out.

“Forget it,” Yuta sighed. “What’re you doing here, Doyoung?”

“I didn’t _want_ that, Yuta,” Doyoung said. “It had to be that way.”

“The past is the past,” Yuta said dismissively. “What’s the point of bringing it up now?”

“Because I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you!” Doyoung blurted out, arms winding ever tighter around himself, as though physically trying to hold in the words but failing. “I didn’t- I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“Are you drunk?” Yuta asked, heaviness settling against his chest at the reminder of the previous time Doyoung had said something similar.

“No,” Doyoung said clearly. “I’m not drunk, I’m- I’m tired.”

“Of _what_?” Yuta asked. “Go home and _sleep_ if you’re tired, Doyoung.”

“Do you really not want to talk about it?” Doyoung asked, his voice small. The vulnerability in his voice knocked the breath out of Yuta. “If you tell me you want to forget everything and continue as friends- _just_ friends- then I’ll accept that. But can you tell me why?”

“Why?” Yuta repeated, hysteria leaking into his voice. His mind was numb, trying to jump-start by aggressively revving up before dying down again. “What’s there to talk about? The way you pretty much cut off all contact as soon as university ended? The way you woke the next morning that night and pretended it never happened? Or the way you’ve been pretty much ignoring our past the whole two years since we left university? Which one do you want to talk about at 10 p.m. after you show up to my house uninvited? We’ve both pretended like the past didn’t happen since you got back, and you want to start _now_?”

“I’m sorry,” Doyoung said but Yuta cut him off.

“Stop _saying_ that,” Yuta said shortly. “Your apologies need to be backed up by a change in behaviour or they’re meaningless. What’re you even sorry for?”

The silence that hung over them threatened to suffocate Yuta as Doyoung thought about Yuta’s question. Yuta’s own mind was barely catching up with everything that was happening. Yuta wanted to sit Doyoung down, to make him answer a list of rational questions that would make everything make sense to Yuta but emotions reigned over rationality at that moment, so Yuta waited for Doyoung to say something with a heart that pounded hard enough that it hurt.

“I’m sorry for not acknowledging that night,” Doyoung started. “In my defence, I thought it would hurt less if we just pretended it didn’t happen. But I never asked you if you were on board with that plan and I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Would you change it?” Yuta asked. “If you could go back, would you have said something?”

“I don’t know,” Doyoung said candidly. “Sometimes I think that would have been better. That despite the hurt, maybe we could have the pain worth it. Other times I think-”

Doyoung cut himself off and look away, jaw clenched. Yuta waited in agony that was barely hopeful.

“Other times,” Doyoung continued. “I think that it was the right call. A clean break. Maybe a part of me knew I’d find my way back to you eventually because I always distantly thought that it was a clean pause rather than a messy end. That we could pick up again once I wasn’t so busy.”

“It wasn’t a clean break,” Yuta whispered.

“I know,” Doyoung said with a sad smile. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I keep apologizing but I truly am sorry. I was too caught up in doing what I thought was right for both of us, I didn’t think about what you wanted. I hope- I hope you know I did it out of love. I cared about you so much, I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you for a prolonged period of time. If we just stopped, we’d both be in pain for a while, but I thought we’d get over it.”

“Just because you did it out of love doesn’t make it right,” Yuta said. “We could have made something work.”

“Maybe so,” Doyoung said. The shrug he imparted was dismissive but rather defeated. “I don’t- I’m sorry.”

Yuta stood there, watching Doyoung pull at the wayward threads on his shirt, picking away at them almost obsessively. Yuta wanted to take Doyoung’s hand into his own to stop him.

“What do you mean,” Yuta said in a voice that was shakier than he’d like to admit. “When you say you’re pretending they’re me?”

“I think it’s pretty self-explanatory,” Doyoung said, neck turning red. Despite the serious atmosphere, Yuta felt like breaking into a teasing smile.

“Well, Jaehyun told me I’m a dumbass so please,” Yuta waved expansively. “Elaborate.”

“You want me to elaborate on how I kiss other people and think about you?” Doyoung asked.

“The way to my heart is through my ego,” Yuta shrugged and Doyoung snorted out a laugh. “What about that comment you made about me being blond.”

“Same thing,” Doyoung said. “I- Yuta. I still have feelings for you. I still love you.”

“Love is a strong word,” Yuta said. “Last I remember, you really, really liked me.”

“Growth,” Doyoung shrugged. “If we’re being honest, I might as well go all in.”

“Huh,” Yuta said. He wasn’t sure how to continue. He needed a bit of time to digest everything that was laid out and how it changed so much of what Yuta thought. To be able to chart a path forward, Yuta needed more answers. “What do you want from me now?”

“You make it sound so-” Doyoung cut himself off with a huff of laughter. “I want to know if we can press play again on that night two years ago.”

“Oh,” Yuta let the word hang in silence for another moment before continuing. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s not a no,” Doyoung said hopefully. Yuta fought back a smile.

“It’s not a yes, either,” Yuta replied. “Now go home. Or go to the club. Whatever.”

“I don’t want to go back to the club. I only went so frequently to forget. I don’t want to forget this,” Doyoung said, stepping closer. Yuta held his ground and looked up at Doyoung with raised eyebrows.

“Cute, but you still need to leave,” Yuta said, crossing his arms.

“It’s late,” Doyoung whined.

“It’s barely 11 p.m.” Yuta pointed out.

“I’m kidding, I’m leaving,” Doyoung said with a grin. “Leave you alone to think about it.”

With that Doyoung stepped away and headed towards the door.

“I take 3-5 business days!” Yuta called out as Doyoung opened the door and stepped out. Doyoung paused.

“Can I pay to get expedited service?” Doyoung asked with wide eyes.

“No,” Yuta said, shaking his head. “Fuck capitalism. Wait your turn like everyone else. I have lots of things to think about.”

Doyoung blinked at him then grinned. Yuta wished he’d stop doing that.

“Sounds fair,” Doyoung said. “Take your time! Love you!”

Yuta stared at the closed door for another moment before dragging his feet back to bed and falling on it. His laptop poked into his neck, but he ignored it.

Doyoung loved him. Doyoung _loved_ him. What the fuck did that even _mean_? Obviously, Yuta understood love. He understood Doyoung’s love. Doyoung’s love manifested to many ways, from the way he would look over Yuta’s essay with a hawk’s eye, picking out its imperfections until it was the best version of itself to the way he would pile food on the plates of people close to him. Doyoung texted people when he thought about them and wanted to catch up, Doyoung didn’t care for dumb social rules about double texting or calling someone out of the blue just to ask how they were doing.

Yuta felt around for his phone, finally grabbing a hold of it and opening his messages.

 _You_  
what do u mean when you said you love me

 _Doyoung_  
3 – 5 business days, huh?

 _You_  
this is still phase 1, don’t test me

 _Doyoung_  
it means i love u and i wanna be with you, like romantically

 _You_  
ah ok cool

Romantically. Yuta thought about his own feelings at the concept, the way his heart skipped a beat and a smile automatically started playing on his lips. He went back to his messages.

 _You_  
do u think i’m in love w/ doyoung?

 _Sicheng_  
??????????  
yea sure

 _You_  
‘yea sure’?? give me smth better than that

 _Sicheng_  
yuta u’ve been in love w/ doyoung hyung since ur sophomore yr

 _You_  
are u sure

 _Sicheng  
_the exact moment was sometime in nov when u both adopted a kitten together for 3 months for some reason

 _You_  
it was IN THE STREETS,, thank god we found it’s family eventually

 _Sicheng_  
why do u ask

 _You_  
doyoung told me he loved me

 _Sicheng_  
cool congrats on the marriage

Yuta looked up at the ceiling, hoping to find an answer in the faded white but sleep came to him before anything else. Despite everything, Doyoung had come to him at an opportune time, the weekend giving Yuta time to think properly as he went about his day at a slower pace than he normally would on a weekday. However, no matter how much thought he gave it in between cleaning up and going for his morning run and playing strategy games, he couldn’t find his way to a definitive conclusion.

It was like having all the steps of the equation laid out in front of him but he somehow still got the wrong answer.

“Coach-nim,” A voice startled him out his thoughts and he focused his gaze to see Jisung, one of his favourite seniors, looking at him in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Yuta said, aware of how distant his voice sounded. God, he sounded like he was already going senile. “What is it?”

“We were done with the reps you told us to do,” Jisung said, nodding his head back to the group of boys who were standing further away, awaiting more instructions. “It’s getting late, Coach-nim.”

“Ah, yes,” Yuta said, looking up at the sun hanging low in the sky. “You’re dismissed.”

“Dismissed!” Jisung yelled out, startling Yuta momentarily at how deep and loud his voice had gotten. Yuta heard the boys whoop and yell out their goodbyes quickly, scurrying away before Coach Nakamoto could drag them back into the field. Jisung turned to Yuta. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Are you concerned for me?” Yuta asked with a grin and Jisung smiled back sheepishly.

“Yes,” Jisung said and Yuta felt warm until Jisung continued. “We have to take care of the elderly.”

“Yah!” Yuta made to hit Jisung but aborted his movement as always, begrudgingly grinning when Jisung backed away laughing. “I’m not that old.”

“You look like you’re contemplating the wars of past, Coach-nim,” Jisung said. “You didn’t even yell at Chenle for showing up today.”

“That theatre kid has no business being in the field while you’re practicing and distracting you,” Yuta said habitually. He thought back to his predicament and sighed. “God, Jisung-ah. Don’t fall in love.”

“Oh, my God,” Jisung whispered loudly. He was looking at Yuta with wide eyes and Yuta narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t tell Chenle,” Yuta warned him and Jisung nodded quickly before taking his leave after shouting out a ‘Good luck!’ at Yuta.

Jisung was a good kid, hence why he was Yuta’s favorite senior but he was also Chenle’s best friend so Yuta wasn’t particularly surprised when he got a call from Kun a few hours later.

“Hi!” Kun said cheerfully and Yuta smiled at the sound. Kun had infectious happy energy, making Yuta smile even when Yuta knew he was going to get grilled. “Are you home yet?”

“Almost,” Yuta said. “Have you spoken to Chenle?”

The pause answered the question better than the distant “Hi, Yuta hyung! Jisung told me you’re in looooove.” on the other end of the line.

“It’s Coach-nim to you, brat,” Yuta snapped back playfully.

“He says to call him Coach-nim. Go help Ten with the laundry.” Kun said, voice firm. “Sorry about that. So.”

“Doyoung told me he loved me,” Yuta said before they could beat around the bush.

“Yeah, I know,” Kun said. Yuta heard the sound of water running and wondered if Kun was doing the dishes.

“You know?” Yuta asked.

“Doyoung has me on speed dial whenever he wanted to love rant,” Kun informed Yuta mildly.

“Love rant,” Yuta repeated.

“Yeah, you know,” Kun continued. “He’s been going for quite a few months now about how soft your hair looks and how your smile is brighter than he remembers.”

“Gay,” Yuta said before rolling his eyes at himself. “All this talk about university is taking me back to the slang of that time.”

“Well, I mean,” Kun said haltingly. “It _is_ gay?”

“I’m gay for him too,” Yuta said mournfully.

“Why do you sound so sad about it?” Kun said with a laugh.

“Because I don’t know what to do!” Yuta whined. “Not about the gay part, obviously, that was a joke but like- in general. About my feelings for him.”

“Do you want to talk about i- Chenle, for the love of God, _what_ are you _doing_?” Kun’s voice turned panicked and Yuta makes an inquisitive sound. “Sorry. Ten’s going to murder Chenle but he probably has it coming at this rate.”

“Go save your son,” Yuta said with a laugh. “You know how picky Ten is about separating the whites and coloreds.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Kun said patiently but Yuta could hear him moving.

“Yeah, I need Chenle alive tomorrow so I can yell at him about showing up on the field again,” Yuta reassured Kun.

The tone of Kun hanging up left Yuta alone with his thoughts but Yuta had never been one to shy away from solitude.

The truth was that what Yuta wanted was simple: he wanted to press play. He wanted to be with Doyoung in the way he’d become so familiar with and the fact that Doyoung seemed to want it too made him feel giddy. He wished it was as simple as that, as easy as simply agreeing to something and having it be so. But a part of Yuta couldn’t let go of the pain. Just because he wanted to do something didn’t he _should_ do it and he was scared that his emotions were clouding his judgement.

The truth was that Yuta had been hurt and he feared that disregarding the moments after they’d hit pause would mess up the cassette. Maybe it was too old to be used properly anymore, maybe pausing it and leaving it stuck there for so long permanently damaged it and now whenever they played through that part of the tape, the damage would ruin the song.

“Firstly,” Johnny said. They were having coffee as Yuta spoke his stream of consciousness to Johnny, hoping the other could help him sort it out. It had been nearly a week since Doyoung had showing up at his apartment and Yuta was mulling over things. “Do you have to use such an outdated metaphor? Cassettes, really?”

“ _That’s_ the thing you’re hung up on?” Yuta complained. “I’m having a crisis here, Johnny!”

“Which leads me to my second point,” Johnny continued. “How about you just- dear God- fix the _cassette_?”

“What?” Yuta asked.

“It was your fucking metaphor,” Johnny said defensively. “Look, from what I see, you want to go back to the relationship you and Doyoung had. But you can’t right, because of this thing. How about you talk to him about this thing and resolve your feelings about it?”

“It doesn’t really bother me anymore,” Yuta reasoned. “I know he had his reasons and he made bad choices, but I get it, you know? I might have acted similarly if I had the same mindset. It doesn’t really sting anymore and I’m honestly over it.”

“Then what’s the issue?” Johnny asked.

“Even if I’m over it and we’re both in a better place now and our chances are more feasible and we’re more communicative and all that good stuff,” Yuta said slowly. “It still happened, right? It’ll always be there, this dark moment, and I don’t know if it won’t come back to haunt us. Even if we fixed the tape, the mark that it was broken at some point will remain, right?”

Johnny looked at him for a moment and Yuta looked back, letting Johnny process his words and where he was coming from. That’s why he came to Johnny, the most empathetic and reasonable of all his friends.

“What kind of fake deep bullshit?” Johnny started after a moment, holding up his hand when Yuta made sounds of protest. “Yuta-ya. Just because something was broken doesn’t mean it won’t work anymore. You’re never going to go back to exactly how it was before, completely omitting the moments you were both in pain and that’s okay. That pain, that distance, it’s still a part of your story. Your fucking tape doesn’t have to simply be happiness and the best of your relationship. If you want to keep that cassette, you have to accept it with all its flaws and scratches.”

“It’s sad that that had to happen, though,” Yuta said softly.

“It is but sad things happen all the time,” Johnny said, tilting his head. “Bad things aren’t always entirely bad. You learn from them. _You_ told me that, I don’t understand why you’re being so indecisive now?”

“I’m an idiot in love,” Yuta reminded Johnny primly and Johnny rolled his eyes. Yuta sighed. “God, I’m tired of thinking about this.”

“If all roads are taking you to the same place, maybe you should just go there,” Johnny said. “I know it’s scary, but I think you’re romanticizing the past a little. You guys were never the perfect, sappy couple. You always bickered and fought and got on each other’s and everyone else’s last nerve while still being disgustingly in love. This isn’t anything you can’t overcome.”

-

_“Stop squirming,” Doyoung snapped at him, holding his leg in place with a firm hand on Yuta’s thigh. “God, you’re so fucking annoying.”_

_“I’ll just go to the nurse, I don’t want to deal with your condescension right now,” Yuta gritted out, hissing in pain when his movement jostled Doyoung’s ointment coated fingers against his wound._

_“I don’t want to be here dealing with your dumb ass either and yet, here we are,” Doyoung huffed. “Stop moving and let me put this fucking gauze on you.”_

_Yuta clenched his jaw but stopped moving, letting Doyoung dress up his wound, his gentle actions a stark contrast to his harsh words. Doyoung continued muttering under his breath about Yuta being careless, Yuta overworking himself, Yuta not knowing his own limits._

_“I’m **testing** my limits,” Yuta grumbled when Doyoung finished patching him up. Doyoung looked at him in disbelief._

_“You need to eat!” Doyoung yelled. “You need to sleep! You’re not testing your limits, you’re being a moron! You know goes on a run after forgetting to eat all morning? Morons!”_

_“Stop calling me a moron, I’m injured,” Yuta pouted. Doyoung’s eyes flickered to Yuta’s freshly bandaged knee and then back to Yuta’s pout. He saw Doyoung sag and he felt his own irritation lessen at the way Doyoung was looking at him._

_“Be careful, dumbass,” Doyoung said, voice softer. “You have to take care of yourself.”_

_“I know,” Yuta said with a sigh. “I know.”_

_“Let’s go eat,” Doyoung said with a sigh, holding out a hand to pull Yuta up. Yuta looked at the hand and grimaced._

_“Can we sit here for a bit?” Yuta asked. “My knee aches.”_

_“No, you need to eat,” Doyoung said before squatting down beside Yuta. “Get on my back.”_

_“What?” Yuta said, the prospect startling a laugh out of Yuta. “Dude, I know you’re taller than me but you’re weak.”_

_“I can manage till the nearest café,” Doyoung said insistently. “You’re tiny, how heavy can you be?”_

_It only took a few more moments of insistence before Yuta was gingerly climbing onto Doyoung’s back. For his part, Doyoung seemed mostly unbothered by the weight, only stopping a few times to catch his breath and let Yuta hang on his back aimlessly._

_“God, what would you do without me?” Doyoung panted._

_“Crash and burn,” Yuta replied seriously, wrapping his arms around Doyoung’s neck._

-

The soft blue mat in front of Doyoung’s door had been replaced by a bright yellow one. The decal was slightly faded, scratched up from the sides. Still, Yuta found it easier than ever before to press the button.

“Oh,” Doyoung said when he opened the door, still in his corporate suit. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“My feet lead me here,” Yuta said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Are you busy? Should I come back some other time?”

“No!” Doyoung said hurriedly. “Come in. I just got home like 15 minutes ago.”

“Are you sure?” Yuta asked. “You must be tired, I can come back some other t-”

“Come in,” Doyoung said impatiently, beckoning Yuta inside with hasty hand gestures. Yuta gave in and followed Doyoung inside. The sun had set so the lights in the apartment were dimmed, giving the space a warm and cozy vibe. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Not really, thanks,” Yuta said, standing awkwardly in front of the couches. “Why do you own so many seating arrangements, good God?”

“Jeno thinks this is his second home,” Doyoung snorted. “Along with Jeno come all his friends and then there are all our friends, so I just figured I’d have a lot of people in this home. I wasn’t wrong.”

“Everything else in your house is so aesthetically pleasing,” Yuta said, sitting down. “And then there’s this.”

“I’m willing to sacrifice a little for the people I love, I guess,” Doyoung said with a grin. “It’s not too bad.”

Yuta hummed and looked around, at the mismatched beanie bags that seemed like they were lived in despite knowing that Doyoung didn’t particularly like beanie bags. There were traces of all the people Doyoung had let into his life and into his home, letting their clutter mess with his space easily.

“So, I thought about it,” Yuta said after a moment, breaking the silence that had fallen. He heard Doyoung yelp and watched him come sit down in front of him.

“Okay,” Doyoung said, looking at Yuta earnestly. “And?”

“You know cassette tapes?” Yuta asked.

“I studied music theory, Yuta, I know cassette tapes,” Doyoung replied.

“I’ve been thinking about cassette tapes a lot lately,” Yuta continued. “They’re so interesting.”

“They were discontinued around 2003,” Doyoung added and Yuta looked at him, taking in the smile playing at his lips. Yuta couldn’t wait to watch it bloom.

“It really sucks what happened to us, Doyoung,” Yuta said bluntly. “I can’t really ignore it.”

“You don’t have to,” Doyoung said, smile dying, teeth biting into his bottom lip. “We can acknowledge it and learn from it. I made a mistake I don’t intend on repeating.”

“You should have reached out,” Yuta said, then sighed. “I should have sought you out as well. I let it happen because I feared outright rejection, so I let it fizzle away.”

“We both didn’t have the best judgement. I bottled everything up even after I came back, even after we reunited, I kept pretending nothing happened because you didn’t mention it. I thought it was another one of our unspoken mutual agreements.” Doyoung said, looking down at his hands.

“From now on, let’s just have spoken agreements,” Yuta said softly. “I don’t want to press play from where we left off.”

The look on Doyoung’s face made the words get stuck in Yuta’s mouth, the hurt too loud to be able to be hidden, almost suffocating him yet Doyoung remained silent, nodding and taking in the verdict.

“We’ve been playing the entire time,” Yuta said. “We didn’t like the song but the pain and the hurt- It’s part of this story too. We can’t pretend like our hearts were never broken. And I think I’m okay with that, as long as we can move forward.”

“Oh,” Doyoung responded, swallowing. “Wait, what does that mean?”

“It means,” Yuta said, leaning forward. “I love you too. And I want to be with you, for real. No running away or pretending this didn’t happen this time.”

“Are you sure?” Doyoung asked, vulnerability naked in his voice.

“Doyoung-ah, I’ve been thinking about this for nearly a week and my brain _hurts_ ,” Yuta complained. “Stop questioning me and kiss me already.”

Doyoung was kneeling in front of Yuta in an instant but even then, he looked at Yuta hesitantly. Yuta felt his hands shaking when he cupped Yuta’s face.

“What is it?” Yuta whispered. “Have you changed your mind?”

“No,” Doyoung breathed out. “I just don’t know if I deserve this.”

“It’s rarely about what we deserve,” Yuta rationalized. “I do know that we’ve suffered enough, and it would be masochistic to continue being apart for the sake of ideals as flimsy as deserving something.”

“You’re really hot when you talk smart,” Doyoung said lowly and Yuta grinned against the press of lips on his.

Curling his fingers into Doyoung’s hair as he deepened the kiss, Yuta failed at grasping any thought that wasn’t about how Doyoung felt against him, the steady warmth and the comfort that came with the weight of Doyoung’s hand on his waist. The way Doyoung gasped against his mouth, the way his tongue felt against Yuta’s, it was all uncharted territory, unfamiliar and Yuta fell head first into the exploration.

“So?” Yuta whispered breathlessly when Doyoung pulled away slightly.

“What?” Doyoung sounded disoriented and it was hard to feel smug about it.

“Thought of anyone else while kissing me? I heard that was a habit you picked up,” Yuta said, his laugh turning into a moan when Doyoung kissed him again, deeper this time, chasing all other thought out of Yuta’s head expertly.

As Yuta made a home for himself between Doyoung’s lips, he thought that maybe all the pain had been worth it, even as he felt teeth against his lips because Doyoung couldn’t stop smiling, even soon pulled away, complaining about his knees against the ground. In the end, they’d found their way back to each other and in that moment, that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on twitter @nyankamoto or at my cc, http://curiouscat.me/nyankamoto


End file.
